But for Terror
by Losseniaiel
Summary: The disposition of the Rings of Power.


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But for Terror

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**Disclaimer: **This world and all its inhabitants belong to J.R.R Tolkien and his estate. I own nothing, am making no money from this. I intend no infringement of copyright.

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Rating: G.

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Summary:The disposition of the Rings.

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A Ring of Power looks after itself, Frodo. It_ may slip off treacherously, but its keeper never abandons it. At most he plays with the idea of handing it on to someone else's care – and that only at an early stage, when it first begins to grip. But as far as I know Bilbo alone in history has ever gone beyond playing and really done it. _(Gandalf_, _'Fellowship of the Rings', p. 54).

However, we know that Círdan received Narya from Gil-galad, and in his turn passed it on to Gandalf himself. Equally, Gil-galad gave Vilya to Elrond. So why does Gandalf say this?

Thanks to **Isis** and **Lalaith** for betaing this.

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A lie? Aye, 'twas a lie I told him. But what truth should I have set in its place? That the workings of the Great Rings may be terrible, true enough, but they may also be wondrously fair, bright and joyous as the break of day? That 'tis hard to part with a thing of such power, but not impossible, no, nor unheard of, for the Elven Rings do not poison the mind as the One does, although their hold upon it is strong indeed? Think you that I should have told this Perian, this hobbit who already bears a burden as great as mine, that I, too, bear a Ring of Power?

Nay, it could not be so, and 'tis better that I spoke this untruth unto him, although it may seem less than fair in these darkest of days. For what evil then might I have suffered to grow within him, what seeds of malice and distrust sown by the servant of Morgoth Bauglir?

How could I tell one so innocent of the world, and of all its shapings and all its fears, that I was sent by the Lords of the West, by Manwë Sulimo who rules in majesty upon the snow-bound heights of Oiolossë? And that I stood upon the shores of the Grey Havens, with the rising ridges and hollows of Ered Luin at my back, and I looked once more upon the seas which rolled out towards the ancient West, nigh on two thousand years of the sun past? And that on that shore, beneath those hills which shone blue in the dying light of the dusk, I met with Círdan the Shipwright, counted old even among the Elder race, and received from him this mighty burden and charge, which he in turn received from Gil-galad, the Elven king, long, long ago? This Ring, this paltry thing of metal and stone, this trinket which burns with red fire upon my finger, defying my own power even as it augments it... Narya the Red, Narya of Fire, wrought by the hands of Celebrimbor in Eregion before its fall.

How might I then impress upon him the dread weight of the Ring he himself bears, which looks but a simple band of no harm and less power? How could I make him believe that he cannot hide this Ring and go on as he has, as life in the Shire ever has, peaceful, bright and merry beneath the yellow sun of the days, and the blue sky of the passing years, and the scudding clouds?

And yet if I could make him understand, and he knew what I am, beneath this mortal shell of flesh and blood, what then? Olórin I was in the West of my youth, yet he must know that not. He must not learn to fear me, fear a Maia who bears upon his hand a terrible thing, dread beyond the bounds of his knowledge, a Ring of Power, a Great Ring. What trust could there then be between us, if he believed I had lied to him about this greatest of all things, that the power of my hand was fearsome indeed?

Nay, I would no more have his fear than I would have the fear of Elrond of Rivendell, or of the Dwarven folk of Erebor, for in fear distrust is bred, and so he might fall prey to the blandishments of the Enemy, who is cunning indeed in such matters.

And so I did not tell him, and preserved the safety of the Elven Rings. For he does not need to know that the Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood bears Nenya the White. Nor does he need to know that Elrond of Rivendell bears the Ring of Air, given to him freely by Ereinion Gil-galad, for all his visions of death, still freely and willingly, as a father to a son.

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Three Rings for the Elven Kings under the sky... 

He need not know; he should not know. He is safe, and so are the Rings, although it discomforts me to see the trust in his eyes as I spill my lies unto him.

Mayhap he shall know soon enough, and wish he did not, whatever truths I withhold from him.

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FINIS

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